


The Bible Belt

by HappilyInhuman



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Altar Boy Castiel, M/M, Military Dean, Sex in a Barn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1359652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappilyInhuman/pseuds/HappilyInhuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean learns that being gay may not be as evil as he was taught growing up. AU: Not Hunters, and they live in the bible belt.</p><p>Past Destiel, Wincest.<br/>Established Sastiel.<br/>Eventual Wincestiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bible Belt

At least it isn't winter, Dean tells himself as he steps off the helicopter pad. It shouldn't have been as cold as it was though, if the time of year were to be an indicator. June and the clouds were an ashen grey and the grass looked a pale yellow as if it were drowning-in a way it was. There was a bit of dying corn in the field where the helicopter pad was, and there was some foliage far off to the sides, but even the trees looked silently fed up with the amount of rain they'd received.

Honourable discharge, he thought as his feet sunk into the mud around him, he'd been standing still for too long. At least, he thought, the wound was at rest. He had to move though, and he clenched his hand angrily around the newly issued cane, pulling his boots out of the mud and starting forward. His knee protested, the gun-shot wound hissing in pain. He knew he'd recover-he always did-but not everyone believed him this time, and so he was home. He could feel the ground below him literally swallowing up every time he took a step, but as he moved more quickly, he began to feel more grounded.

His father, a proud ex-military man himself had been waiting to pick him up, and Dean could already hear the car from there, bursting with life and music. From there, Dean almost thought he could hear Sammy's voice, had Sammy really not already left for college?

Once Dean pushed through the brush at the side of the field he could see the car, and the man who'd been charged with carrying his things to the car rushed forward to the trunk, loading Dean's things before rushing back to the helicopter. Dean watched him go, he didn't know the man, but then again it really didn't matter all too much. When he turned back toward the car he could see that Sam was still there, his head clearly visible in the passenger side window.

Too gloomy to demand the passenger seat, Dean jumped into the back seat, swinging the door closed with a huff and he felt the car start moving. He could tell that his dad and Sam were trying to talk to him, but he decidedly tuned them out until he realised that the car was heading away from the house. The sounds of the car came back to him in a rush.

"I don't know what's wrong with him." Sam said. Dean's expression darkened.

"Where are we going?" Dean finally demanded.

"Church," his father spoke up, "Castiel says you didn't write him either. When he found out you hadn't even written to us, he was very concerned, Dean, you can't just shrug everyone off."

Dean was awe-struck. How long had it been since he'd allowed himself to see Castiel? Close to two years, since he'd come home for Christmas when he was twenty and his father had insisted he and Sam come with him to the Novak's Christmas party at the church. Hadn't seen him before that for God knew how long. He could still remember how Castiel had looked, eighteen at the time and still acting as altar boy for his father's church-the church where his father was pastor. He remembered the way that Castiel, in his innocent white clothes had looked up at him with a question in his eyes. Dean still didn't know what he'd been asking.

The building was tall and pure white, stained glass windows of colour winding up the curved sides. A lot of churches were boxed and angular, but the Novaks' was circular with the altar in the centre and the cross hung above it. The rows of seats were a dark, rich, stained wood and the lighting was yellow but bright. It was a bit unconventional a set up, but they taught and led like any other, Castiel's father saw to that.

Castiel was waiting at the entrance for them, and as they walked straight past the small bowls of holy water, Castiel heard them, stood up, and turned around. "Dean?" He called, seeing the man and quickly exiting the row of seating where he had been sat. He stopped in front of Dean, who was silent and showed no joy at seeing him.

Dean could see Castiel's eyebrows slowly furrowing in frustration, and it reminded him of how Castiel had looked in the back of his dad's truck when Cas was fourteen and Dean was sixteen and they had been best friends. The way Castiel had looked as he stargazed, and their eyes met. Their lips were touching before Dean had come to his senses and pushed him away, and Castiel had furrowed his eyebrows just like that, frustrated and hurt. Dean's heart protested thinking of it.

"Will you be coming to tomorrow morning's service?" Castiel asked hesitantly, "...It will be Sunday..."

"Sorry Castiel, I don't plan on it." He replied harshly, even though he could immediately tell his father wanted to smack him upside the head for saying it. Castiel's face fell further, if that were even a possibilty. Castiel didn't know what else to say, so he was silent as Dean turned away toward his father's stern look. When he looked back, he saw Castiel staring at Sam, and Sam staring at Castiel, and he stared at them both, confused. When they noticed he was looking at them, Sam looked away and started toward his brother and father, pretending he hadn't done anything.

Dean glanced warily at him before letting it go.

The bed was cold and unwelcoming, and groaned as Dean flopped his tired body down upon it. He groaned and yawned, stretching with his eyes closed before staring at the ceiling and remembering the way that the party had gone two years ago. Sammy was hanging off of him, which Dean had found strange at first, but later decided was due to the fact that Dean had been away so long, and Castiel was overly interested as well, but hid it almost completely. Castiel approached them several times, attempting to make small conversation, but finding it progressively more difficult as the night progressed.

Their father had ignored them in favour of talking conservative politics, god, and guns with the adults, the talk of choice among the majority of the people in the rural south where they lived.

When they finally returned home, Sam had sat in Dean's room with him in silence for a few minutes before turning to go, it was four pm and it was getting dark outside. Sam returned a few minutes later, his sixteen year old shreds of innocence showing through as he asked, "Are you going to come eat Christmas dinner?" Dean looked up with a scowl.

"If you bring me food we can eat together here." Rather than being deterred as Dean had hoped, Sam ran away before returning with two plates full of traditional Christmas dinner. "Sammy..." Dean said as he was handed one of the plates. Sam sat on the opposite side of the bed, his own plate sat in front of him. Dean started eating anyway, silent, before muttering, "Thank you." Sam looked up at him in surprise as he realised Dean was already eating.

"Don't you want to say grace?" Sam asked.

"No." Dean answered.

"Why?" Sam asked, "Dad always wants us to say grace."

"Well I'm not Dad." Dean said firmly, surprised when Sam smiled at the comment. The two ate in silence, and it wasn't long before the plates were sat on Dean's night table, and the two were sitting side by side on the bed, the small television Dean kept in his room blasting colourful cartoons. Dean smiled even though they were childish, they reminded him of the even younger Christmases with Sammy, watching those same Christmas cartoons. Sam had been working toward getting progressively closer to Dean, but Dean was quiet and tried to enjoy it until he felt two soft lips press against his neck. He shifted away and turned his head to meet the two big eyes beside his shoulder.

"Sam?" Dean asked, honestly flabbergasted.

"Dean." Sam replied, crawling a bit higher up onto Dean, into his lap. Dean was a bit too shocked to refuse or reciprocate at the time, not until Sam's lips were already on his, their hips rubbing together with a friction which made Dean’s mind go blank. Sam was breathing deeply between the sloppy kisses he was laying upon Dean’s lips, but soon he moved his mouth down to Dean’s jawline and worked his way to the neck and he was soon nearing the collar of Dean’s shirt.

“Sammy…” Dean gasped as Sam started undoing the buttons before he flipped them over, pressing Sam into the mattress and hovering over with with a firm look. Sam stopped, looking up into Dean’s eyes and searching them for a moment before he seemed to come to a decision. He waited as Dean  breathed deeply, seemingly trying to breath in Sam’s essence as his head dipped closer.

Dean’s lips were gently dancing upon the edges of Sam’s lower lip for a moment, unwilling to touch him full out just yet. He paused before moving up, moving his lips against Sam’s at an excruciatingly slow pace, moving his hands down Sam and stopping at his hips. Sam reached his hands up again, slowly grasping buttons and undoing them, causing Dean’s button up to slowly fall open, the sides draping Sammy from view until Dean shrugged the shirt off. “Up.” He commanded, and Sammy sat up for a moment so that Dean could pull the t-shirt from his torso and throw it over the side of the bed.

“Dean…?” Sam said, feeling Dean’s hands travel downward, he gasped when Dean’s hand ran lightly again the bulge in the crotch of his jeans before travelling a few inches up and undoing the button.

“Sammy?” Dean replied, pausing as he grabbed the zipper, not pulling it down yet. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked, suddenly nervous.

“No, no, no!” Sam said, grinning, “Keep going, please!” Sam reassured him. Dean pulled the zipper down slowly before helping Sam get out of them, taking the boxers too, and then Sam was free and blushing about his position just a little bit. Dean stared down at him in interest, taking in the sight of Sam laid there on display before he realised Sam start to squirm. “Well aren’t you going to take yours off too?” Sam asked, virginity showing full force. Dean paused, almost taken aback by the display of innocence. Was he really going to do this to his brother? Take that innocence away from him?

He jumped up, not stopping despite the sudden look of surprise and upset which came over Sam’s face as Dean climbed off and away from him, shaking his head and running from the room. “Dean!” He called, but Dean didn’t stop, and for a moment Sam laid naked on the bed, the scent of Dean on the sheets intoxicating him. It was after ten minutes of sitting, sulking in the slowly increasing darkness that he got up and put his clothes back on.

He sunk to his knees as he collected them, pulling on his boxers and shirt, picking up his trousers and bringing them to his room in silence. He closed himself in and went to bed, ignoring the memories of the few moments before, Dean hovering above him with those lust filled eyes-the sinking feeling in his chest when Dean ran away. He wished Dean had stayed, even if they didn’t...do that together as Sam had wished they would for the past few months since Dean had been gone. He missed him badly, and he wished he hadn’t kissed him for a moment, so that they could have continued to spent the night together watching cartoons-but he realised he cared much more about the newly discovered feeling of Dean’s lips pressed against his. A truly intoxicating memory he was happy to have, even if he never felt it in real life again.

Dean sat in the living room where his father was sitting getting drunk with far-right christian conservative friends, unaccepting fiends of people. “Damn faggots don’t know what they’re doing to America.” One of them hiccupped. Dean’s blood boiled until his father agreed, and Dean couldn’t disagree with his father.

Dean groaned, hearing a small sound outside the window. He rolled over, realising he had fallen asleep and looked at the alarm clock, the numbers on which were shining 1:00. He rolled back over to the other side of the bed and off of it, rubbing his eyes and heading over to the window, where the moon light was coating the grass and the roof tops. He was surprised to see Castiel, in his regular trench coat standing down below the windows, looking up to Sam’s window. Through the wall, Dean heard Sam move toward the door, out into the hallway and creep down the stairs. Dean waited until he saw Sam join Castiel before creeping through his own door and down the stairs, out the back door and listened until he heard sounds coming from the barn.

“Sam…” Cas moaned as he breathed frantically between kisses, laughing, “Calm down.”

“Can’t.” Sam said, pulling Castiel’s smaller body flush up against his own, grasping him through his clothing, even dipping his hands beneath Castiel’s shirt and rubbing the skin there.

“Stop! I’m shivering!” Castiel laughed, not really wanting Sam to stop, and it was helplessly humid on this summer night in particular, with the crickets buzzing so loudly and Dean’s blood pumping so loudly in his ears that he could barely think. What were Castiel and Sam doing? He gasped when Sam pull Castiel’s shirt off and threw it across the barn before pressing Cas against a pile of hay, their lips instantly plaster together again  as Cas gripped at Sam’s shirt, as if willing it to disappear. Dean could feel himself stirring in his pants, and it was disturbing him. It wasn’t long before Sam had Cas naked, and he himself was stripped down to his boxers, holding Castiel’s legs open as  his stuck his head between them and worked his tongue against Cas’s entrance.

The sight of Cas laying back-moaning, hands tangled in Sam’s hair had Dean’s lips pressed hard together and his hand against the waistband of his pants, resisting the urge to touch himself.

“Sam, hurry up!” Cas whined, moaning until Sam took pity on his and removed his tongue, quickly removing his boxers and positioning himself outside of the smaller  man’s entrance. As he entered slowly, Dean was almost taken aback by the way he became even harder just listening to the way Castiel whined as he was entered, and Sam groaned as he pushed in. When Dean opened his clenched eyes the sight of the intertwined bodies made him shudder. They were still and quiet for a moment, the two mens’ lips meeting in a slow, peaceful kiss. “I love you, Sam.” Cas whispers.

“I love you more, Cas.” Sammy replies, and Dean can feel his heart shattering into a million pieces, feeling like both the men he’s so utterly in love with are so utterly unavailable to him now. His dick completely softens at the thought of it, especially the thought that he’s had both men so utterly laid out in front of him like a feast and he’d never taken it. Thought he’d be ruining them-but when he sees them kiss, whispering their love for eachother, he thinks maybe homosexuality is just as pure a form of love as any other. He can’t even be mad at them for leaving him behind and in the dark-just a little sad.

He can barely believe his ears when he hears Cas whisper, “What are we going to do about Dean?”

“Let him come to us on his own…” Sam said hesitantly, not wanting to give Castiel too much false hope, but not wanting the smaller man to be sad. With that Sam started moving, Castiel gripping his shirt in desperation. At the sight of Sam pulling himself out of Castiel before thrusting himself back in was enough to distract Dean from thinking about the words he’d just heard. The sound Cas made putting him on edge and he knew he had to leave. He ran back to the house, up the stairs, into his room and shut the door. He pounced unceremoniously onto his bed before letting him hands drift beneath the material of his jeans and boxers.

It was the next morning when he finally recognised the scent which had come to dominate his bed. He had noticed when he first laid on it when he returned that it hadn’t smelled like himself very strongly anymore, but he had written it off as him having been away so long. He realised now that the scent was a mixture of Sam and Castiel. For a moment before he opened his eyes he dedicated a moment to imagining Sam and Cas sneaking in there for the first time, realising it smelled like him and curling up together in the scent-returning continuously, unintentionally causing his scent to fall away and make room for theirs.

Sam was making breakfast when Dean headed down the stairs and entered the joint kitchen-dining area. Sam was speaking to him again, but Dean didn’t have the strength to listen at that moment, not until Sam stuck his hand in front of Dean’s face and waved.

“Hello?” Sam called, “Earth to Dean?”

“Huh?” Dean said, suddenly snapping his head toward Sam to look at him in question. Sam shook his head.

“Tuning me out? Ignoring us all. Being rude to Castiel,” Sam frowned, “God Dean, I don’t understand what’s getting into you.” Sam turned away to pay attention to his breakfast before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He turned a blind eye toward the breakfast cooking on the stove again and made a show of moving toward the table again and throwing himself down in the chair across from Dean. “You know Dad isn’t home.” He said, waiting for Dean to reply before he realised he wasn’t going to. He added, “You can say anything you want to.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sammy.” Dean replied, honestly at that.

Sam paused, “You kissed Cas when you were sixteen.” He says it as a fact. Dean nods. “Then you pulled away.” Another fact, Dean thinks that Cas must of told Sam all of this, and again he can imagine Sam and Castiel curled up together but now he imagine them having a conversation, kissing every once in a while, but generally interested in what each other has to say. Dean nods again. “Why?” Sam asked, genuinely curious.

“Dad and his friends always said gays were evil, and that they were going to burn in Hell.”

“And you believed them?”

“It was all I’d ever been told!”

Sam is silent before saying, “You know they were lying, right?” Dean is quiet, staring through Sam.

“I saw you and Castiel together last night.” He says instead of answering, and Sam is taken aback.

“So?” Sam asked, “Do you think we’re going to Hell?” He asks, repulsed by the thought of his brother giving into the beliefs of the general population of the bible-belt where they lived.

“No.” Dean admitted. He paused, “It was beautiful.”

Sam sighs, relieved. “You know we’ve been waiting for you to come to your senses then?”

“I heard it as clearly as I smelled the two of you all over my bed.” He grins.

“Oh, you smelled that….?” Sam said, almost getting a bit red, “It was all Cas’s idea...he really missed you.”

Dean smiled at Sam’s quick attempt at a cover up, the first time he’d smiled in a while. He paused, “Sammy?” Sam looked up at him again, and then Dean said, “Get Cas over here, and this time...I’ll join you on my bed.”

‘Okay,” Sam says, “But might be a while, he has service this morning at the church.”

“Dean is in there, Sam.” Castiel said as Sam opened the door to Dean’s room.

“I know, Cas.” Sam says.

Dean spins around in his computer chair and smiles at the sight of Sam and Cas. Castiel glanced up at Sam in question, and Sam sets on a hand on each of Castiel’s shoulders, ‘It’s okay…” Sam says, and Cas glances toward Dean in confusion as Sam adds, “He knows everything.” Cas looks back over his shoulder and up at Sam with his eyes large. He looks back at Dean, who gestures for Castiel to come over to him, and so Cas and Sam entered the room, shutting the door behind them and approaching Dean.

Sam could tell that Castiel wanted to jump, pounce on Dean and hug him and kiss him-and honestly he wanted to do the same...but he felt nervous suddenly. The uncomfortable atmosphere melted away though, when Dean reached out and grabbed Cas, pulling him by the waist toward him and onto the chair with him, holding the smaller man to his chest. “Sam.” Dean called, “Get in here.” And Sam, feeling invited now, enveloped the two men in his arms.

**With two men on him, Dean was sure he was going to need a bigger bed.**


End file.
